The First Move Page 27

  “You might not get the clothes back,” he said flatly.

  “What?”

  His eyes bored into her, their blue depths frozen and missing the welcoming twinkle she’d come to expect. “We’ll talk later.”

  Renia looked back at Sarah hugging her folded party clothes to her chest. Anger burned in her chest. For herself, who was apparently being dumped because she took care of her boyfriend’s daughter and he was too focused on her past to think about their future. And for Sarah, who was being treated like she wasn’t smart enough to know what was happening while she watched her dad dump his girlfriend for helping her. Sarah didn’t need to also blame herself for the end of her father’s relationship, when she was already feeling down about the choices she’d made last night.

  She met Miles’s stare. “We don’t need to. Cathy or Sarah can return the clothing to me at the studio, if it comes to that.” She put her hand on Sarah’s shoulder and steered the girl back to the bedroom.

  “I’m sorry,” Sarah whispered.

  Renia shut the door behind them. “Apologize for lying to your parents. Don’t apologize for anything that happens between your father and me.” She dug through her dresser for a T-shirt and yoga pants. “If these don’t get back to me, it won’t be the end of the world.”

  “Thank you for picking me up. I’ll miss you.”

  Renia gave the girl a brief, hard hug. “I’ll miss you, too, zabko. You can always call if you need me.”

  * * *

  SARAH WAS QUIET the entire walk from Rey’s house to the car. She didn’t even look at him. No, not didn’t look at him. She couldn’t look at him. His daughter was actually avoiding the possibility she might see him, even out of the corner of her eye. Like he was the one who had done something wrong.

  “Your mom and I will come up with a punishment for you for lying and sneaking out.” He wasn’t going to let her forget that she was the one in trouble, not him.

  “Whatever.” She slammed the car door and fastened her seat belt. Not once did her eyes slide his way. Sarah might as well have been wearing blinders.

  Miles looked down at his hands on the steering wheel. His knuckles were turning white, his skin stretched over the joints. When he released his fingers, blood rushed back into their tips and the veins on the back of his hand popped back with relief.

  God, he wanted to shake his daughter for being so stupid and hold her on his lap like she was still his little girl seeking comfort after a scraped knee. But he couldn’t do either. Shaking sense into her would only make the situation worse and she didn’t want comfort from him. She wanted comfort from Cathy. Or Rey.

  She’d wanted comfort from Rey and all he’d done was say nasty things, and then all but carry Sarah out of Rey’s apartment.

  “What happens between Rey and me has nothing to do with you.”

  “Sure. That’s why you dumped her after she came to get me.”

  “She should’ve called me.” He felt like he’d repeated that same phrase a thousand times. A broken record no one listened to.

  Miles pulled up to the curb in front of Cathy and Richard’s house. Sarah was out of the car before he had turned off the ignition.

  “I’d prefer to stay at Mom’s next weekend,” she said through the open door. “You’re being a jerk.”

  He was unbuckling his seat belt when she slammed the car door on her insult. Cathy ran out her front door and clucked over their daughter before leading Sarah back into the house with a dismissive wave. Miles hadn’t even gotten out of the car yet. He slumped and sank back in his seat.

  Was he wrong for thinking Rey had failed by not calling either him or Cathy last night and waiting until this morning?

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  RENIA LOOKED AT the heap of blankets and pillows on her couch. She wouldn’t need them; her anger would keep her plenty warm.

  “What a jerk,” she said to the empty room as she snapped the blanket flat before folding it. Sarah had needed her and she’d rushed to help her. She wasn’t the girl’s mother. Hell, she wasn’t even her stepmother. The seam of a pillowcase tore as she ripped it off the pillow.

  Fine, she thought, tossing the pillowcase toward the kitchen to be trashed.

  Renia cared about Sarah enough to get in her car late at night, drive to Lemont and pick her up at a party. She didn’t deserve or want an award, or even a thank-you, but being dumped for her good deed seemed harsh.

  She stuffed the blankets in the closet and slammed the torn-up pillowcase in the trash, where her relationship was apparently headed.

  She didn’t need Miles. She’d been alone before and could be alone again. A little bandage over her heart, a lot of chocolate and she would heal. At least now she’d met her daughter. Miles had given her the courage to pursue a relationship with Ashley. No matter what else happened with their relationship, he’d given her that and she didn’t need anything else from him.

  What she needed to do was talk to her mother.

  Sunday was one of the few days her mom didn’t go into Healthy Food. When Renia walked in the front door of her childhood home, her mom was in the living room, vacuuming the new beige carpet.

  A month ago, her mother had finally replaced the ’70s shag carpeting that had colored the house in olive-green, burnt orange and brown. The carpet had been ugly and should’ve disappeared with disco, but Renia missed it. She’d always known she was home when she could look down at the orange carpet pile peeking through her toes.

  Though sometimes she’d hated seeing that carpet so much her body hurt.

  “Renuśka,” her mother exclaimed above the sound of the vacuum. She leaned over the machine and the noise ended. “What a pleasure to see you! You should’ve called. I would’ve made you lunch.”

  “Can we have some coffee and talk?”

  Her mom cocked her head and blinked, but didn’t ask any questions. “Sure. Let me finish vacuuming the room. Why don’t you start the coffee?”

  Renia ground enough beans for a full pot of coffee and started the pot brewing. She also put milk into two large mugs and placed them in the microwave to heat. A long, drawn-out and painful discussion would be more pleasant with snacks. Her mom had butter cookies in a jar, which Renia piled on a plate, along with some sliced fruit, crackers and cheese.

  She watched as her mom took off and hung up her apron, then washed her hands in the sink.

  The coffee pot beeped, and Renia sighed at the universe’s signal that the conversation couldn’t be put off any longer. Her heart pounded anxiety through her body, echoing into her ears, but they’d put off this conversation for over eighteen years.

  Be fair, Renia, she admonished. Mom tried, and you always avoided it.

  “Well,” her mom said as she accepted the steaming mug of milky coffee, “what’s all this about?”

  “I’m ready.”

  “Oh.” Her mom lowered herself slowly into a kitchen chair. When had she gotten old? “I wondered if Ashley’s reappearance into your life would spark the conversation.”

  Renia sat down with her mug and dipped a cookie in the coffee before she responded. “Strangely,” she said, mulling over each word before she said them, “Ashley wasn’t enough. I know I abandoned Ashley.”

  “Renuśka, you didn’t abandon your daughter. You gave her up for adoption.”

  Before she replied, Renia bit her lip and looked up at the popcorn ceiling, which blurred behind her tears. “It doesn’t matter what name y
ou give it. It’s a rose, Mom, and it still stinks.” Her mom made a noise in her throat to disagree, but didn’t say anything once Renia lowered her face to look at her. “I know I did the right thing. But abandoning, adopting, giving up, surrendering, relinquishing, whatever word you want to use, I handed my daughter over to someone else to raise because I wasn’t capable of doing it myself. She was better off because of it, but I did it. And when given the choice of learning more about her, I refused. I just thank God that fate overruled my decision.”

  “Renia Agata Milek, that’s an ugly thing to say about yourself.”

  She took a sip of her coffee and the hot liquid burned a path down her throat. “The uglier thing is that I was afraid to become involved with anyone because I was afraid he’d judge me for having a baby at sixteen.”

  The reflection of the ceiling lights in her half-full coffee mug danced at Renia when she looked into it. She put the mug down and pushed it away. Drinking coffee was just a stalling tactic because she didn’t want to say what she had to say next. “Uglier still is that I was afraid to have another child, because I might abandon that child, too.”

  Coffee sloshed on the table as her mom nearly dropped her cup. She put her hand over her mouth, her eyes astonished and sad. “I’m so sorry you would even think such a thing.” She reached out her hand to touch her daughter’s, but before Renia felt the dry touch of her mother’s hand, her mom pulled back, uncertainty in her face. “Why? Why would you think that?”

  “There’s Ashley, whom I handed over to a nurse and a stranger.” A deep breath wouldn’t prepare her for the hurt she’d see in her mother’s eyes after Renia said what she had to say next, but she took the breath anyway. “And then there’s you. You abandoned me when I needed you the most.”

  Her mom made a choking sound in the back of her throat. Tears slipped down her face, which she made no attempt to wipe away. She looked like an old woman, and that made Renia sadder than this conversation or her memories ever could.

  She was mad at her mother—had been mad at her mother for over twenty years—but the woman falling apart across the small table had given birth to her and Renia loved her, anger or no anger. It was love that made the stale hurt in her breast so painful.

  “Why did you kick me out of the house?”

  “Renuśka,” her mom whispered through sobs and snot, “I—” She reached out for her mug with both hands, but must not have seen it through her tears, because instead of wrapping her hands around it, she knocked the mug over, spilling what was left of her coffee. “I’m so sorry.”

  Was she apologizing for the coffee, the abandonment or both? Either way, her mom didn’t stand up, but sat in a liquid mess of coffee and tears.

  The sound of her chair scraping the floor and her mother’s crying sent chills down Renia’s back. Everything about this conversation was as terrible as she’d imagined. The noise, the burning in her heart, the bitter taste of coffee mixed with salty tears. She wished she could go back in time and have had this conversation years ago, before time had magnified all the pain. Time didn’t heal all wounds. Some wounds just festered when left alone and the wounds in her and her mom’s relationship were gangrenous, but neither of them had had the courage to amputate.

  While her mom dissolved back into the inconsolable woman she’d been years ago, Renia got paper towels and wiped down the table. Then she grabbed the two mugs and walked to the sink, dumping the remains of the coffee. This conversation had to happen. Her mom had been pushing for this conversation for years. Renia wanted it to happen.

  None of that made hearing what her mom would say any easier. And it obviously didn’t make it any easier for her mom to say it. A complete ending of her relationship with her mother might be easier than whatever they were trying to do today. Estrangement might still happen, even with all they’d done to prevent the rending of their relationship.

  Renia put more milk in the mugs and placed them in the microwave. While the milk heated and her mother cried, she futzed around the kitchen. By the time Renia got a box of tissue for the table, her mom was breathing shakily. She sipped her coffee while her mom blew her nose and wiped her eyes, wadded-up tissues piling up on the table.

  “You...” Her mom’s voice broke, but she didn’t break down into tears again. “You are so much like your father. Always were.”

  “What about Karl?” At every age, her brother looked just like the pictures of her father when he was that age. The old Poles in the neighborhood always commented on how much he looked like their dad. No one ever said anything to her.

  Her mom pulled a tissue from the box and started wrapping it around her fingers. The thin white paper broke just as the tips of her fingers started to turn purple. “Karl looks superficially like Pawel, but Pawel never had Karl’s presence. I love my son, but even when he’s smiling and shaking hands, he’s serious and sometimes a little scary.” The tissue was now little more than snow on the table. Her mother grabbed another one from the box. “You project calm and put people at ease.”

  This tissue seemed sturdier than the last. Her mom looked down at the purple tip of her index finger and smiled sadly as she unwound the paper. “Most people made Pawel uncomfortable and he never knew what to say, so he would smile and encourage the other person to talk. You know exactly what to say to make people feel comfortable, and when to say nothing at all. The end result is the same. You put people at ease.”

  She tossed another shredded tissue across the table and reached for the now empty box again, waving Renia off when she stood to get more. Instead, her mother picked up her mug of coffee. “And you have your father’s eyes.” Her eyes teared up again, but she bit her lip and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, her composure was back. A poorly-sized suit of armor, but enough to allow her mom to sip coffee. “Same shape, same color brown, same long eyelashes.”

  Pieces of Renia’s heart were now scattered about the table, masquerading as white bits of paper. One small puff and they would all blow away. “If I looked so much like Dad, why weren’t you there for me?”

  Her mom breathed out heavily through her mouth. The scraps of tissue danced on the table. “Because I couldn’t look at you without my heart breaking.”

  “I needed you and you—”

  “I failed you.” Her mom swept her hand across the table, pushing the tissue off the edge and into her hand. She stood, dropped the ripped paper into the trash and returned for the pile of used tissues. When she returned to the table, the only betrayal of her equanimity was a tremble in her hand. Renia pretended she didn’t see it and her mom pretended it wasn’t there.

  “Renuśka, I know I failed you, and there’s no excuse for it. I wasn’t able to be strong for you and me both. So I tried to be strong for just you, but there wasn’t any of me left. Every time I looked at you, Pawel died all over again.”

  “Why did you send me away?”

  Her mom took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders against an oncoming battle. “I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s the best decision I ever made for you.”

  The words kicked her in the stomach and Renia struggled to spit out a simple response. “Why?”

  She’d been a pregnant teenager with two checked bags and one carry-on driven to Midway by her grandmother for the short flight to Cincinnati. She’d been scared about the baby in her belly and twisted with pain because her mother hadn’t even driven her to the airport. The wounds were still there today, faded like the stretch marks on he
r belly, but visible to anyone searching.

  “I couldn’t bear to look at you and so you acted out to get my attention. Even if I could have disciplined you...” Her voice trailed off as she peered into the memories hidden behind Renia’s shoulder. “I would get so mad at you for misbehaving and I’d look at you and see Pawel and I would just want to shake you, him...for leaving me.” Her mom shook herself back to the present and looked full-force at Renia, who shivered at the haunted grief still lurking in her mother’s eyes. “I have never come so close to wanting to harm another human being as I did the day you told us about the baby. And I knew you had to go.”

  Renia looked at the table of uneaten snacks and half-drunk mugs of coffee. Then she looked back up at her mother, who had sent her away because she wanted to punish her dead husband for leaving her alone. Renia hurt so badly she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

  “I have to go.”

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know. I need to be out of this house. I need to think and I can’t do it here.”

  * * *

  THE STREETS ONCE so familiar to her were a blur as she walked past them. Houses with girls she’d partnered with for lemonade stands and boys who’d played hockey with Leon and Karl.

  Archer Heights and the Polish community that lived here had been the center of her life. She’d gone to school with these people, gone to church with these people. When she’d had her first crush on a boy, and imagined her first wedding, she’d thought she would get a house in this neighborhood and her kids would grow up with a life much like hers. Secure in their community and their place in the world.

  Then half her family had been killed in a car accident and her life changed. She’d replaced lemonade with alcohol and Disney princess wedding dreams with sex.

  All these years she’d thought she’d turned into a responsible, functioning adult in spite of her mother. Maybe she’d pulled her life together because of her mother. Because her mother cared enough about her to let someone else raise her.